


On the Forest Floor

by RobinSonnets



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comic), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinSonnets/pseuds/RobinSonnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is tired after several sleepless nights. He refuses to wake at Alfred’s commands. Dick wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Forest Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr: www.robinsonnets.tumblr.com

A rapping on the door before it opened.

“Master Timothy, it’s past the customary waking hour.” Alfred entered with arms full of laundry. He opened one of Tim’s closets and began to hang the clothing. “I recommend you begin your day before Master Bruce calls. You know his feelings on sleeping in.”

Tim hugged himself around his pillow and further burrowed in his nest of quilts and sheets. After cocooning himself, he made a hole for fresh air. He’d fallen into bed four hours ago after two sleepless night of tracking a drug cartel. Bruce was supposed to have left this morning for Star City, but a change had ruined Tim’s plans of sleeping away the day. But, today he was determined to have a full eight hours and no one could stop him.

A squeak. “Alfred, please _._ ”

Alfred paused in his work, glanced at the bundled boy, and smiled. He felt his brooding, but all he saw was a rosy nose peeking out of the heap. “Come now, crime never rests.” He finished his duties and walked to the door. “What would  _Batman_  say if he saw you like this?”

Silence; then from the Robin’s nest came imitation and guttural growls, “No time for sleeponlygrrmshm.”

Alfred stifled his chuckle, then cleared his throat and straightened his suit. “I’ll suggest some annunciation lessons to Master Bruce. But, you have been warned, Master Timothy.” He stepped through, shutting the door behind him.

Tim yawned and stretched his leg, but when his bare foot slid out from the warmth and into the perpetual chill that haunted his room he tucked it back. Dozing, he listened to the sounds of the manor: the chirping birds on his windowsill, the particular creaking of the floorboards that Damian caused when he walked the corridor, the distant scratching of Alfred’s record player in the kitchen, the quiet that was Bruce, and the click of his door’s latch sliding open.

He held his breath as the door shut. Socked feet padded closer. Trying not to flinch, he reminded himself that Damian swore off attempting to murder him. The muted taps passed by his footboard, but then stepped backwards. He was about to see who it was when he froze at the thunder of a running start.

“Tim!” Dick flung himself onto the bed, launching the other into the air and ruining his wrappings. Once Tim landed, he poked another hole, ignoring Dick, and recovered from whiplash. “Timmy? Where are you, Tee?” His singsong timbre mimicked the songbirds’ tune. “Timo?” Peeking under each blanket in his fake search, he crawled to Tim’s covered side, knelt above him, and sighed. “This Timmy-shaped lump looks so comfortable. Oh, no!” He gasped. “Gravity attack!”

“No, no gravity attacks!” But it was too late. Dick had gingerly fallen forward on top of him, careful to smother but not crush him. Tim wiggled beneath him, trying to roll off the childish man.

“Timbo? Where are you?” As he asked, he straddled the teenager’s outline, smirking.

He bleated, “Dick _,_ come  _on_.”

Dick pried open Tim’s porthole and peeked inside. His breathing stopped. Tim’s bangs tickled his eyelashes and lidded, smoking eyes. His ear tips and the tip and bridge of his nose were flushed. Those alluring lips parted for that whip of a tongue. Dick couldn’t resist biting his own lips as he snared Tim’s enticing eyes.

He smiled and whispered, “Hey,  _Tim._ ”

Tim’s frustrations fell away as he watched Dick take him in. The way his eyes wrinkled at the edges like he was smiling, the way his nostrils flared, and his breathing slowed, wafting his warm, slightly minty breath over him. The way the morning light glowed behind him like the world realized what an angel he was. He felt his toes tingle and curl. And as Dick grinned in that lopsided, genuine way, all the snide words were gone.

“Hey,  _Dick_.”

“Room for one more?”

Tim pushed himself up on his elbow, leaned forward, and kissed him but for a moment. The chastity of it wrought a low moan to hum behind Dick’s closed lips. He didn’t respond, but the lift of the sheets was answer enough. Dick threw the body pillow to the floor and tore off his shirt as he slid himself in, wrapping arms and legs to pull Tim closer. He rested his cheek on Tim’s head as the other pressed his ear against his bare chest to listen to his heartbeat while tracing little bat symbols on his warm skin.

They idled away the morning, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please message me with any requests.


End file.
